Properties
- end_line
- 4524
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T03:41:20.747Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 4491
- text
- come home. If I get a chance, I'll phone ya."
"Here," old Phoebe said. She was trying to give me the dough, but she couldn't
find my hand.
"Where?"
She put the dough in my hand.
"Hey, I don't need all this," I said. "Just give me two bucks, is all. No kidding--
Here." I tried to give it back to her, but she wouldn't take it.
"You can take it all. You can pay me back. Bring it to the play."
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"How much is it, for God's sake?"
"Eight dollars and eighty-five cents. Sixty-five cents. I spent some."
Then, all of a sudden, I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I did it so nobody could
hear me, but I did it. It scared hell out of old Phoebe when I started doing it, and she
came over and tried to make me stop, but once you get started, you can't just stop on a
goddam dime. I was still sitting on the edge of the bed when I did it, and she put her old
arm around my neck, and I put my arm around her, too, but I still couldn't stop for a long
time. I thought I was going to choke to death or something. Boy, I scared hell out of poor
old Phoebe. The damn window was open and everything, and I could feel her shivering
and all, because all she had on was her pajamas. I tried to make her get back in bed, but
she wouldn't go. Finally I stopped. But it certainly took me a long, long time. Then I
finished buttoning my coat and all. I told her I'd keep in touch with her. She told me I
could sleep with her if I wanted to, but I said no, that I'd better beat it, that Mr. Antolini
was waiting for me and all. Then I took my hunting hat out of my coat pocket and gave it
to her. She likes those kind of crazy hats. She didn't want to take it, but I made her. I'll bet
she slept with it on. She really likes those kind of hats. Then I told her again I'd give her a
buzz if I got a chance, and then I left.
It was a helluva lot easier getting out of the house than it was getting in, for some
reason. For one thing, I didn't give much of a damn any more if they caught me. I really
didn't. I figured if they caught me, they caught me. I almost wished they did, in a way.
I walked all the way downstairs, instead of taking the elevator. I went down the
back stairs. I nearly broke my neck on about ten million garbage pails, but I got out all
right. The elevator boy didn't even see me. He probably still thinks I'm up at the
Dicksteins'.
- title
- Chunk 4